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Archive for November, 2009

Never Mind the Quality, Feel the Narrative Thrust

Monday, November 30th, 2009

My book’s been in the wild for three days now, and I’ve noticed a theme emerging in the responses I get when people take receipt of their copies – some variation on “oh, it’s a lot nicer than I expected”. Translation: “oh good, it’s not shit”.

It’s flattering that people are impressed with the quality of the product, but it’s also worrying that their expectations are so low. That got me thinking; if customer’s have so little faith in a self-publishing author to deliver a professionally printed book, does that also extend to writers’ faith in their ability to produce one?

Probably, and that’s one misconception that needs kicking into touch right now.

One fact you might not be aware of: you have access to the same printers as the major publishing houses. It’s true; you can deal direct with the printers, and with the publishing industry so downbeat right now, a lot of printers are trying to attract indies and small presses in an effort to adapt and survive. The only difference between you and a major publisher is the order size (which has one minor implication I’ll detail below). Aside from that, it’s a level playing field.

Don’t believe me? Okay – let’s assume you’ve placed an order for 100 hardback books (a typical minimum for digital printing) and take a look at the anatomy of the end product.

  1. Dust Jacket – it’s a sheet of paper. They print your artwork on it, laminate it in gloss or matt for a nominal fee (if you choose) and wrap it around the book.
  2. Binding – fabric-covered cardboard. I guess you could use some expensive fabric woven by Parisian chorus girls in their spare time, but as there’s a dust jacket hiding it from view, it’s not going to add much value. I can’t see any difference between my binding and any of the hundreds of “pro” books on my shelves.
  3. Spine Embossing – this is a nice touch. I thought about saving the money, but I believe it does add value, and it’s useful to identify the book if the owner loses the dust jacket. All the printers ask for is a print-ready PDF with the lettering in black; they make up a “brass”, and use that to stamp the books.
  4. Endpapers – these are the sheets of paper glued onto the inside of the book cover, joining them to the pages seamlessly. You can go for the same colour as your book’s body pages, but I think it looks nicer to go for a different colour – graphite in my case. These definitely add something to the look of the book, but you need to decide if it’s worth the extra cost. The endpapers my printer provided are very cool, with a thick, grainy texture.
  5. Paper – this is the one area where large publishers have the option to go one better. Note that I said “option”; this isn’t a default choice. The papers available for use with digital presses are perfect for the job, but for larger print runs – over 1000 or so – litho presses become cost-effective, and these can handle thicker paper, which some publishers may choose to use. By “thicker”, I don’t mean that each sheet is visibly thicker than the lighter, digital-friendly weights; what I mean is that the paper responds differently when you bend a half-inch thickness of it, and it may be slightly more opaque. This is the kind of difference only a borderline-OCD perfectionist like me would notice, but it’s something you can investigate yourself.

So that’s it. There’s nothing else to a book. Okay – so there are custom jobs you could point to; my hardback copy of Rant by Chuck Palahniuk has a crazy image printed inside the dust jacket. I spotted it for the first time when I was inspecting the book as research for my print run, over a year after I read it.

Are you convinced? Are you happy that your self-published book won’t look like the poor cousin on a mainstream-fed bookcase? If you are, that’s one less barrier between you and your readers. If you’re not, just check out some printers and ask for samples; see for yourself.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

It’s been a mixed day. My regular coffee-and-internet wakeup routine included reading this post by Mur Lafferty – someone who’s positivity and ideas have always been inspiring to me – being mildly negative about self-publishing. One comment in particular caught my eye: that self-published books “won’t be in book stores”. If I were categorising her comments on her behalf, I’d put that one under “generalisation”.

Next up, the BBC News website offered comments by the author MG Harris off the back of this article on self-publishing. All of her comments were valid, but I’m worried that the general air of negativity was off-putting for anyone considering financing their own print run, particularly the following:

“However, author MG Harris believes that writers taking on the whole publishing process themselves can fail to give their work proper scrutiny.
“It’s all too easy to just end up writing whatever you feel like writing and then just say ‘it’s ready’ with a few minor superficial corrections,” she explained.
She added that real publishers have all the expertise needed to bring sheets of words into a marketable book.”

I’d hope “real” publishers do have the expertise to produce a marketable book, and I know that easier access to the market will allow a lot of unedited, rushed work into the wild, but it’s patronising to suggest there aren’t writers out there with the technical and marketing skills needed to produce a professional, polished product and market it.

It was with those words in my mind that I drove into town to take my first shipment of Make a Move to the Manchester Travelling Man store and sign the paperwork for the sale-or-return deal I’ve arranged with them. Abby, the co-manager, was impressed with the quality of the finished product, and put them out on display, and a colleague from work arrived to buy a copy while I was there having made the trip into the city just for that reason, so I signed the book at his request, thanking him for being my first “real” sale. It was a fun time for me, especially if you compare it to the enforced solitude of writing 100,000-or-so words.

And that, right there, is the whole point that people seem to be missing. There isn’t a lot of money to be made in self-publishing, but if you’re doing it just for the money, as in any endeavour, it’s going to be a soulless task. I’m doing it because it’s fun. It entertains me to do it. Okay – I’ll admit to 5, maybe 10% of ego in the equation, but primarily, I’m putting Make a Move out myself, because meeting people, talking about the story and writing in general, working with printers, working with my graphic-designer friend Sam – all of those things are infinitely more fun than leaving my book to rot on my hard disk while the “real” publishers work out whether the eSky is eFalling at all.

I’m not trying to be a positive voice amongst the doom mongers; I’m just offering my answer to the question that titles this post:

Hell yes.

Les Livres Sont Arrivées

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

Yes, the books have arrived, and they’re amazing. Just a quick post to let everyone know that the books are now available to buy direct from me, and will be on sale in Travelling Man Manchester (website) from tomorrow (Sunday 29th) with other stores to follow. I’m still wrangling with the online payments, but that option should be available this week.

Here’s a photo of the books as I unboxed them, so you can see Sam’s awesome cover art:

Box of Books

So the books are done; now the hard work starts…

Font-slapped: A Cautionary Tale

Wednesday, November 25th, 2009

I hadn’t considered fonts when I was writing my book; I wrote in the default font for Pages, then later Scrivener. I just liked the readability of the defaults, so stuck with them. When I exported to Word from Scrivener, the end target was a submission copy of the manuscript, so I formatted everything as Courier New, double-spaced, you know the score… It was only when I was typesetting the book that I considered the fonts I wanted to see in the final print.

I asked my friend, Mark, who knows more about books than everyone else I know put together, what font he’d like to see. His response: as long as I can read it and it’s not Comic Sans, who cares? That left me with plenty of choice.

Due to my setup, I needed a font that I had on both Windows and Apple machines. I looked at Garamond, Book Antiqua, Georgia, Palatino Linotype – all common, but perfectly serviceable fonts, and not boring, generic, overused Times New Roman. With the subtle differences from that most ubiquitous of typefaces, I had plenty of fonts from which to choose. I couldn’t lose.

Yeah I could.

Late in the book, I introduced some characters crucial to the story. Characters from Latvia, with Latvian names. And of course, I wanted to show off a bit and choose names with some of the curious accents common in the Latvian language. I set myself a short timescale to finish the print-ready files to send to my printer, as I knew I needed that pressure to stop me from picking over every detail a hundred times and just get it done, so when I found the Latvian names at the end of the book filled with black rectangles – indicating that those characters were unavailable in the selected font – I didn’t have much time to fix the problem. I didn’t want to go back to the research and choose new names – these characters were alive in the book now, and their names had stuck – so I ran through my list of suitable fonts, desperate to find one with support for those crazy accents.

Of course, there was only one serif font on both systems with the character support. Times New Fricking Roman.

The book text looks good – looks great in fact – but I’m a control freak and I wanted my choice of fonts. When you’ve committed to managing every tiny detail yourself, things like this are important. Hell, every detail is important.

So the moral of the story? Keep things simple and don’t show off; it’s the little things that’ll come back and bite you in the ass.

5 Things a Self-publishing Author Doesn’t Need

Sunday, November 22nd, 2009

It seems there are a lot of things to spend money on in getting a printed book to market. Kind of like optional extras on your new car. If you’re going to make any money on a self-published book, you have to keep your unit cost as low as possible, so avoiding any unnecessary expenses is vital. Whenever you are considering whether to pay for something, look at the increase to your unit cost price and compare it with the chance it will increase sales. If you can’t see a guaranteed return on investment, don’t buy it. Here are 5 things I decided didn’t offer enough return:

  1. ISBN Numbers. Most independent booksellers don’t need a barcode to sell your book, and you certainly don’t to sell direct. So who uses a barcode? Amazon, Waterstones and supermarkets. If you can make a deal to supply to those retailers and stop your cost price being higher than theirs, you’re printing in such quantities that the £107 for ten ISBNs is negligible. In other words, if you need an ISBN, you can afford one; if you can’t afford one, you don’t need one. Apparently you need an ISBN to sell an eBook through Amazon Kindle or the other ePublishing services; yeah, eBooks are great…
  2. Author Photo. Before the internet, the author photo (and About the Author section) created brand identity and enhanced the connection with the reader. Now we have the internet. The only thing you need to print on the back cover/flap of your book is the address of your website. If you’ve decided you want an author photo, don’t pay a professional to take one. So many people have digital SLR cameras and photo editing software now that you must know someone who can take that photo for you. Professional photographers turn up and take perfectly framed and exposed photos on demand; you have the time to experiment until you get the shot you want. I’ll post soon with some tips on how to get better portrait shots with a variety of levels of photographic gear.
  3. Website. I’m lucky – I have a good friend who runs a web/graphic design company (Lemonaise) and is happy to help me out with my site, but even if you’re on your own, pre-built blogging platforms and services like WordPress, Tumblr, Blogger and so on are more than enough for establishing your web presence. Add a Twitter account and not only will you be expanding your reach, you’ll have access to thousands of people who’ve set up their own sites and offer links to help and advice. You don’t need to pay for a website (although you may choose to if you’re after something unique).
  4. Distribution. If you’re going to make enough money to give up your job, you need access to retailers. But if you have the tens of thousands of pounds it would cost to supply Amazon et al at the cost prices they’ll demand, and you can supply those books on sale or return terms, with no guarantee of sales, you probably don’t need to work anyway. So let’s discount distribution at that level as beyond out reach. Print on Demand (POD) companies such as Lulu allow you to sell to foreign territories, as the books are printed in the country to which they’re shipped when ordered. Access to the US market for a UK author is tempting (it’s not something I’ve completely discounted) but the profit per book is so low compared to printing the books yourself, I’m not sure it’s worth it. If you could establish sufficient reputation in a foreign market to sell a few thousand books, I’m not sure the time spent couldn’t have been spent pushing your book in your home market, at ten times the profit (I’m generalising on the numbers, but I’m not far off). “Local Author” is a brand that can sell books, and you should work hard to maximise the returns on that brand.
  5. Middlemen. We all need more middlemen, right? I don’t know too much about publishing services as I stop reading early whenever they’re mentioned. Forget vanity publishing, misleading branding or outright cons, there just isn’t enough profit on a small print run to leave room for anyone else to take a cut. You, the printer, your retailers; that’s the guestlist, and there isn’t room for crashers.

There are way more than 5 things you don’t need when you’re printing a book (swine flu is one I can advise against based on experience) but these are the main money-sinks I considered and discounted when planning my print run, and upon which I feel able to offer some insight. So what other ways can you suggest to keep that unit cost price as low as possible?

Where I’m At

Friday, November 20th, 2009

OK, this doesn’t count as a blog post, but I wanted to let new visitors to the site know what’s going on regarding the availability of the book. Unless my printer very soon tells me otherwise, the books will ship to me on 27th November, so they’ll be available to buy online or direct from me from Monday 30th, priced at £12.99 (with a postage and package charge for web orders that will be set once I know exactly how much the book weighs). At that point I’ll add a page to the site with an order link and a list of the brick and mortar shops that will be stocking the book.

So that gives you a week to download the first episode and decide if you’re into it. Enjoy.

What’s the Worst That Could Happen?

Thursday, November 12th, 2009

I’m sensing a degree of panic amongst writers. It’s understandable; for so long, the only choice for a new novelist has been whether to submit to an agent or to try a direct submission to a publisher. That choice was hard enough – the time and money invested in a submission isn’t insignificant, and no one wants to waste either by getting it wrong – but look where we are now: the traditional routes to publication are almost gone, and while new avenues are being paved with Print On Demand, Podcasting, downloadable content and the ever-headline-friendly EBook readers, none have gained a cachet yet, and the potential to find your novel/poetry/art adrift in a sea of failed projects is high. So what are you to do?

I’m going to do something utterly pretentious; I’m going to quote from my book.

“You can’t make things better or worse, just different. Make a move. See what happens.”

When I first wrote that, I was trying to encapsulate a character’s attitude to finding himself in a bad place, but it’s become something of a mantra for me since. As I write, I’m waiting on the jacket proof for a small (100) run of hardbacks I’ve ordered, and even now, it’s hard to remember the point at which I decided to print the book myself. I know I’d pretty much given up on the idea of getting a book deal in the current market (Make a Move is NOT supermarket-friendly) and wanted to do something while I wait for the industry to open its doors to new writers again, so I did the maths, found the cash, the technical knowledge and the friends to help, and I placed the order. My break-even point is comfortable, and I’ve got a lot of pre-orders.

But what if it all goes wrong? Well, so what if it does go wrong? Completely wrong. I’m out a few hundred quid, I’ve got a couple of boxes of books to pulp/store and I’ve got a bruised ego to salve. But does it really matter?

No. My biggest obstacle right now – that the publishing industry knows nothing of my book – is also my safety net. I can’t damage my reputation with this project, only enhance it. Even if the run sells out and I reprint, no one in publishing will care. It doesn’t matter. My only goals are to get my book out to people and have some fun doing it, maybe meet some new people and learn something. I can achieve all of those goals whether the project succeeds or not, and I love no-lose situations.

You don’t have to become a print publisher to get your work out there – although I’ll be writing about my experiences and findings to help you if that’s the path you choose. There are many paths available now, and if you’re prepared to do the work, and have modest ambitions, you can achieve success. And if you find a path isn’t taking you where you thought, choose a different one.

What’s the worst that could happen?

What is Self-publishing?

Tuesday, November 10th, 2009

Self-publishing has become one of those umbrella terms used to categorise any rendering of printed (or digital) text that doesn’t come with an advance from the company bankrolling the release (or who would give you an advance if things weren’t so darn difficult in the industry right now). I’m self publishing as I write, and I’ll write more about it as the process continues, so I wanted to define the term as reference now – a bit of background so you know where I’m coming from.

“What is a Publisher? ?The Publisher is generally the person or body who takes the financial risk in making a product available. For example, if a product went on sale and sold no copies at all, the Publisher is usually the person or body who loses money. If you get paid anyway, you are likely to be a designer, printer, author or consultant of some kind.”

I lifted that from www.isbn.nielsenbook.co.uk – the people who’ll sort you out with an ISBN number (that you DON’T NEED) in the UK. It gives a good definition of what a publisher is, and if we’re extrapolating to define self-publishing, with “self” being you, you need to make sure you fit that description.

I’m assuming you’re also the author in this equation; if you’re not, you’re just a publisher, in which case you’ve got your own problems to deal with.

A self-publishing author, therefore, is someone paying to have his or her book printed. Note “printed”, not “published”. There’s a difference.

So what other acts of publication are routinely lumped in under the self-publishing umbrella?

Print on Demand (POD)
I looked into POD, and on the surface, it’s a great idea. A customer orders a book, it’s printed, and you get paid. Kind of. The returns on POD aren’t great, as there’s essentially a printer, publisher and distributer in the queue ahead of you taking a bite out of your pie. If you’ve written a non-fiction book on a specialist subject that you can sell for £20 or upward in paperback, POD can get you in touch with a large market quickly, and you can make a lot of cash. Otherwise, it’s fine as a hobby.

Publishing Services
I don’t know much about these, as the idea is flawed so I’ve never explored any further. When you send a submission off to a publishing house, you’re hoping they agree to print your book and send you a cheque for a couple of grand, not ask for a cheque and expect you to do all the marketing. Whichever way you look at it, this route is closest to the traditional view of vanity publishing.

Online Publication/Podcasting
This is a great way to get your work out there, and you’re in control. Unfortunately, until someone invents a replicator like they had in Star Trek that can knock up a printed book when you click download, there’s no good way to monetise this, and who wants to give their hard work away for free? EBooks? Kindle? I’ll leave those for another post.

Self-publishing, to me at least, means doing it yourself. You pay to get the books printed, you arrange retail or sell direct, and you handle the distribution. It’s a lot of work – a LOT of work – and there is significant financial risk involved, but – and here’s the important part for me – it’s a lot of fun!

Take control, get involved, learn the skills, meet the people, make a move. If you think your book is strong enough to risk £500-£1000 of your own money, and you have the enthusiasm, then find a printer, become a publisher yourself and collect 100% of the royalties. After tax…

I’m going to write about everything I experience in getting my book printed and into readers’ hands, so maybe I’ll be able to help with the technical aspects of how it’s done – the typesetting, print-ready pdf generation, ISBN numbers, copyright, and so on – but as for that stake money, yeah… you’re on your own.

Indie is the new Indie

Saturday, November 7th, 2009

I’ve been reading a lot of opinion likening the rise of indie/self publishing with the punk movement of the mid-seventies – the key similarity being the separation of the form away from the unaccepting mainstream. Thing is, punk rock offered something the current indie-publishing crowd don’t, and that’s a new voice. A new sound. Something different. I’m not saying punk rock was great – I want to listen to the Sex Pistols as much as I want to listen to freeform jazz – but they had something new to say, and it was that message that justified the departure from the status quo. If you look at most self-published books, they’re the same as the titles being churned out by the “traditional” publishing houses, only with less money spent on cover design and marketing. So they must be inferior, right? Otherwise they’d have a book deal? Well, no, but you could forgive any potential reader for thinking that.

Remember the UK indie music scene of the late-eighties, early-nineties? Bands like Ned’s Atomic Dustbin, Thousand Yard Stare, Power of Dreams – so many great bands putting out music on indie labels and reaching an audience, but unable, or unwilling, to make it into the top 40 (although, I think Ned’s managed it with “Trust”…). Their music wasn’t so different, but they were a bit dour, or downbeat, or scruffy, or just happy with the following they had. They made a living in their own niche, and they had fun doing it. That, if anywhere, is where the indie publishing crowd are heading.

It doesn’t have to end that way though. We just need a new voice. A new sound.

Why are novels 300 pages long, with a beginning, middle and end, three key ideas and plot reveals at 25% and 75% of the word count? Because that’s what people have grown to expect. But no one is expecting anything from the indie crowd, so why tie ourselves to those expectations? I love short novels  - say 150-200 pages – but so few are published as people want fatter books. Novels used to be shorter, but fashions changed. They can, and will, change again.

I’m not saying that my novel, Make a Move, is the answer, but it is different, both in structure and narrative style. I’m not saying I’m taking indie novels in a new direction, but someone who reads it and likes what I’ve done with my idea of what a novel can be, might. I’d like to meet that person, maybe have a beer and a conversation, and see what ideas emerge. Maybe if enough of us have conversations and support each other in breaking away from traditional ideas of what constitutes a novel, indie publishing can evolve into alternative publishing – offering a product that appeals to smaller markets, but which is no less valid for filling a niche. That difference is what would attract readers away from Amazon or Waterstones or, shudder, Tesco and back into independent bookshops. With fewer middlemen, there would be more money for writers, and fewer obstacles keeping writers and readers apart. It would be a new movement of interactive, responsive, original, daring and, above all, fun fiction.

Now that would be punk rock.